


FEBRUARY, 2020

by hahahaharlequin



Series: Daily Words of 2020 [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23665468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hahahaharlequin/pseuds/hahahaharlequin
Summary: Words of the Day: February 2020Took me quite a while to get on with this, honestly, and I'm still working on them《summary not needed bc they're mostly just Bruce hanging out with his kids, and the batkids being kids》
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Series: Daily Words of 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886485
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. fissile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 1, 2020
> 
> fissile
> 
> adjective /FISS-ul/
> 
> : capable of undergoing fission

Bruce has noticed something regarding Damian as of late:

That he is a keen learner of fissile rocks and crystals. 

He could trace back to a week ago, when Jason had been home, and all but dragged his youngest brother to the den to watch documentaries and such, Bruce supposed. 

And ever since then, he would find Damian crouched in the front lawn, or probing in the backyard, looking for rocks. Just yesterday, he had just signed and received a package for Damian, which the boy admitted was a collection of smooth rocks and crystals of varying minerals and sizes. 

It was an interesting hobby, and at least not as dangerous as Tim's that was climbing on whatever precarious height he could find around the manor-- if Bruce was around to forbid him from going out to do  _ it  _ in the city-- to take photos of what he could see from that high above ground. 

The first time Bruce had caught his feet dangling from the attic window, he was afraid he'd have a heart attack. 

So for now, he'll admire and support Damian in his safe, little hobby. 

And maybe, keep an eye on Tim, too.


	2. prognosticate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 2, 2020
> 
> prognosticate 
> 
> verb /prahg-NAHSS-tuh-kayt/
> 
> : to foretell from signs or symptoms : PREDICT

As much as he hated to admit it, Bruce looked ridiculous, in his business suit with his reading glasses as he scrolled down online fashion blogs and magazine articles to  _ at least  _ prognosticate possible date and gift ideas he can arrange for his daughters-- plural, because he said so-- and Selina, for the coming Valentine's Day.

Tim had been sending him glances from his own desk across the office; a mix of delight and worry, but Bruce paid him no mind, and just reminded him that he needed that presentation and design proposal by five, so they wouldn't have to bring work home.

He bookmarks a couple tabs, and jots down store names and what to ask for, for when he decided to go shopping for the presents. 

He ignores Tim's chuckles when he pockets the list, and goes back to reading last week's financial reports.


	3. hierophant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 3, 2020
> 
> hierophant
> 
> noun /HYE-uh-ruh-fant/
> 
> : ADVOCATE

Bruce watched Damian pace in front of him, as he schooled his most serious, and the most believable  _ "I am listening, and paying attention to you, my son"  _ look he could muster as he did so.

As a self-proclaimed hierophant of pet adoption, Damian made compelling points, so Bruce took note to nod and hum appreciatively at the appropriate times. 

His son was in the middle of his tirade how animal shelters sometimes cannot provide lavishly for their rescues when realization finally dawns upon Bruce:

"Son, have you taken in another litter of kittens?"

Damian sputters to a stop.

A beat passes before his nods tersely. 

Bruce could only sigh fondly as he reached out to give his son a hug. "Show me where you're keeping them, and then we can ask Alfred if we can go into town to get supplies and food for them."

The boy visibly swells in elation. Another nod, and Bruce is following him down to the Cave. He gestures toward his cow's pen, where four kittens that looked about a week old are sprawled across the hay. 

Later, they're on their way back to the car, their arms laden with kitten formula and blankets, and toys. Only Damian is holding onto a cone of frozen yoghurt with his other hand. 

  
Bruce had  _ always  _ had a soft spot for his kids.


	4. scumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 4, 2020
> 
> scumble
> 
> verb /SKUM-bul/
> 
> : to make (something, such as color or a painting) less brilliant by covering with a thin coat of opaque or semi-opaque color applied with a nearly dry brush

Bruce had  _ always  _ had a soft spot for his kids. 

Even now, as he posed for his sons and Cass, as they painted-- at least  _ attempted to,  _ for some people, like Dick and Tim-- portraits of him. As the artist of the family, Damian had managed to corral, and in worse case scenarios,  _ bribe  _ his brothers into this little activity of his, as a school project of sorts. 

Of course, Bruce couldn't refuse. He'd be spending time with his kids for the whole day,  _ and  _ arms would be laid down, as a truce will be enforced to keep the harmony inside the parlour-turned-art studio.

Though, he can't help making small movements every time he gets a butt cramp, or when he notices someone making… questionable art choices.

"Are you sure you want to scumble yours, Tim?" The boy's piece was nowhere near Damian's semi-realistic rendition, nor had he used any mastery of shadows, which Jason had employed in his own work, so when Tim decided to slap some blue all over his canvas, Bruce thought it was time to intervene.

"Yeah, I need to capture the somberness you exude," was the reply he got. 

Damian looks over from his own station, and makes an expression that looked like a mix of when he had eaten a WarHead for the first time, and when he had to step inside Tim's jungle of a bedroom for a dare. He shakes his head forlornly, and lets out an exhausted sigh, "it's a good thing your presentations are targeted towards mostly senescent businessmen who have no eye for the arts. Oh, right. Neither do you." He said, putting down his brush to walk over to Tim's easel. 

He'd just opened his mouth for another round of his tirade when he stopped short in front of the canvas. Bruce couldn't see the whole thing from where he was seated, only the side, so he had no idea what's happened, as Jason took that moment as an opportunity to scrutinize his work, and add details to his own work, while monopolizing Bruce.

Dick, too, had taken to trying again, this time sitting closer to Jason, probably to copy the main figure of Bruce, which Dick had failed to put out on his canvas the first time 'round. Cass had come over to Tim's station too to sneak a peek, and gasps audibly at what she saw.

"Cass? Dear, what's going on?" Worry plastered on his face, but it's mostly confusion and curiosity. She looks up toward him, then back to the canvas, alternating glances before storming off back to her own station, and throwing her canvas away, and getting a new one. 

This time, it's Damian who steps away from Tim's canvas, a wicked grin painted  _ (haha)  _ on his features. "Father," he starts. 

He approaches him with careful steps, "I believe Drake has tapped into his hidden potential in the arts, and my position as the artist in the family is at risk." 

They'd all said this, with Tim smiling confusedly on the side, while Dick and Jason scrambled to their feet to look as well, and the two shared a shout in surprise, before going back to their paintings to aggressively alter some parts.

* * *

Bruce still  _ hasn't  _ seen Tim's work, which the boys and Cass have all agreed to present to Bruce on his birthday. 

  
And he wasn't the Greatest Detective for  _ nothing. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit longer than the other ones, idk


	5. ancillary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 5, 2020
> 
> ancillary
> 
> adjective /AN-suh-lair-ee/
> 
> : SUBORDINATE, SUBSIDIARY

Bruce groans into his hands, as he sits slouched in his seat, minimizing the document Tim had left open for him to read over. He'd even left a note that he ought to read over the reports filed in by the main factories regarding their respective ancillary plants. 

Tim was supposed to do this instead of him, but he was whisked away by Dick and Selina earlier off to some shops, probably, to look for birthday presents for Bruce-- or at least that was what he had told Bruce just before the elevator doors closed. 

Not that he disliked this part of his job, because truly, Bruce liked reading over reports, but sometimes they get so tiresome that they put a strain on Bruce's "old man" eyes, as Jason had eloquently put it.

He wasn't wrong. Bruce was getting older, he was aware, just as he knew there were random strands of grey hair growing on his scalp, just hiding beneath the remainder of his jet-black hair.

He lets out another sigh before slipping on his reading glasses. He was gonna be there awhile, so he might as well get comfortable in his seat.


	6. canard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 6, 2020
> 
> canard
> 
> noun /kuh-NARD/
> 
> : a fabricated report

Bruce had to sit back, and try to chastise and dissuade both parties from strangling each other, or reaching for a Batarang at this particular moment. 

At the moment, Tim and Damian are having a Western-esque stare down, after Damian had just accused Tim of submitting a canard. Neither parties had plausible alibis, nor did they have concrete proof, so ideas started swimming in Bruce's mind as he took the cowl off, so he angles his shoulder to block Tim from charging at Damian, who has pulled out a dagger from his boot.

Dick, Jason, Stephanie, and Cass have yet to return, and Alfred was taking an awfully long time to get down to the Cave, so Bruce could only deduce that this was a diversion of sorts for whatever the kids were up to nowadays. 

He shudders at the thought of it being a surprise thing for Bruce's birthday.


	7. infantilize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 7, 2020
> 
> infantilize
> 
> verb /IN-fun-tye-lyze/
> 
> : to treat as if infantile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sort of a continuation of the last chapter)

Damian hasn't backed down, even folding his arms in front of his chest indignantly. Tim had been clenching both his fists at his side. 

"This infantile attempt at incriminating me just so I'd lose Bruce's trust is futile. I have no reason to fake my records and report, unless it is actually  _ you  _ who has done so." Tim announces, frowning with his every word. Damian is pouting angrily, while the creases on Bruce's forehead deepen. 

"What? Nothing else to say, other than to throw lies at me?" Tim was tapping his foot impatiently now, as if he was anticipating an intervention. 

Damian throws his hands open, "I've no words for charlatans.

There's none that you could ever conceive of that can save your sorry behind after committing such heinous crimes." For someone shorter, Damian could very much be leering over Tim. 

Of all the disputes between Tim and Damian, this was the only one he never wants a repeat performance of. This was going in circles, and no one was  _ listening to him.  _

_ Where was Dick, anyway? _


	8. lenticular

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 8, 2020
> 
> lenticular
> 
> adjective /len-TIK-yuh-ler/
> 
> : having the shape of a double-convex lens

Bruce saw no point in using lenticular lenses in viewing artwork. Tim and Damian begged to differ. 

They both had a stifling row that lasted for almost all weekend, until Bruce had offered to take the two to the Gotham Museum of Art-- as prompted by Dick, suggested by Jason, and promoted the idea to him by Barbara and Cass-- where a contemporary artist was holding an exhibition.

Now, they went around different displays and paintings, where it was advised to use lenticular lenses to watch the artwork come to life. Tim explained to him it was of an augmented reality sort, this artist, and was the only thing he and Damian both agree on.

Sighing, Bruce strides over to where the two boys were huddled around a display case of small, postal stamp-sized things, gushing over whatever came alive in front of their eyes. He reckons, maybe this wasn't so bad, and he was spending some quality time with his youngest boys, which was always a plus.


	9. expunge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 9, 2020
> 
> expunge
> 
> verb /ik-SPUNJ/
> 
> : to eliminate from one's consciousness : DESTROY

Despite quite the successful, and eventful weekend with both Tim and Damian, truly,  _ now  _ is the time for the world, or whatever higher beings out there should totally expunge Bruce from the human race:

Exactly the evening after their little museum outing, Dick came up to him and expressed how jealous he and Jason were, and wanted to spend a whole day with Bruce, too. 

Firstly, Bruce didn't believe a single word Dick said regarding Jason being just as enthused as he was. Jason rarely asked anything of Bruce, but he often did jump in with whatever his brothers and sister was onto, so okay. That wasn't  _ that  _ much of a lie, but still. 

Which leads to Bruce's current predicament, where he's standing in line for a rollercoaster ride, on an unbelievably hot day in February. Dick is as giddy as a child about to receive their first pet on Christmas morning while Jason was. Well, he was standing behind Bruce, hiding from the sun. He would lecture the man about wearing a leather jacket out on a hot, and not to mention exhausting day. But later, when they're back home and sipping ice cold lemonade in the kitchen while Alfred made cucumber sandwiches for them.

No sooner than an hour later, it was finally their turn on the ride. 

Bruce eyes the seats with great scrutiny, as they were just rows upon rows of seats with seatbelts and a metal safety bar in front, and their feet will just have to dangle in mid-air. He was no stranger to jumping off high buildings and taking leaps across rooftops in the city, but this will be a whole new experience for him. 

Dick had pulled Bruce into one of the seats in the front row, with both his sons flanking his sides. With the seatbelts set, and the bar pulled down in place, the ride starts with a low rumble, crawling slowly up the tracks.

The drop came sooner than he had expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //It's probably obvious idk how to write rollercoasters, and that's because I have never been on one, nor will I ever be convinced to get on one. 
> 
> I am deathly afraid of them. And heights.
> 
> So, sorry for that abrupt end.


	10. debonair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 10, 2020
> 
> debonair
> 
> adjective /deb-uh-NAIR/
> 
> : suave, courteous

Bruce is sitting down, staring straight into the back of Alfred's head as they were driving home. For someone not-so-oftenly dubbed a  _ 'dashing debonair'  _ with great socialising skills on top of his charisma and handsome face, Bruce was at a loss for words. 

His hair was askew, and he was frowning an awful lot more compared to how he normally is. Dick pointed that out. As much as he would like to defend himself that Jason was in a much worse state than he is, he chose not to rile any of his sons up anymore.

Dick was a big ball of energy, and the rollercoaster ride had just amped him up even more. It was like he was running on a sugar rush, whereas Jason had been just as quiet as Bruce was. 

On the ride, he was holding onto Bruce's arm for dear life, while in exchange, he held a hand each from both grown up sons. He wasn't  _ scared,  _ and no one could prove otherwise.

_ Still,  _ he reckons he'll just stick to museums and aquariums, and zoos and avoid theme parks altogether. 


	11. obloquy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 11, 2020
> 
> obloquy
> 
> noun /AH-bluh-kwee/
> 
> : a strongly condemnatory utterance : abusive language

For all he was worth, Jason was a good son. One of his best, but Bruce was biased. He loved all his children equally, even including those who weren't officially his, by paper or otherwise. 

And yet, Jason had still been the one to go against the one rule Batman had set for himself, and for those who wear the symbol of the Bat, and that is: to not kill.

Though, Bruce wished he'd been clearer on that note, so he could explicitly express that that hadn't meant bodily harm or any form of mutilation was on the table. 

The others had agreed on drawing the line there, but some others had refused. 

Bat Woman had, but if Batman couldn't dissuade her, then that was her call to make, and out of Bruce's hands. 

Damian, his own son, had been adamant that he must extract a punishment that he saw fit. Even if both Dick and Tim had gone out of their ways to explain to the pre-teen that the punishment was not included in their dossier, he'd pushed that he was raised that way, and it would feel like betraying his mother if he did otherwise. Bruce left it at that, wanting to avoid any more fighting. 

Cass, too, had the same argument. She and Damian had tag-teamed to persuade Bruce to let them have a free-pass, and he couldn't find it in him to go against the nature of his children, as it would mean defying them as a person. 

And now, Jason. 

He was the most vocal, going on a tirade and bringing the sting of losing him to the Joker, who was  _ still  _ very much prancing around in his cell in Arkham. But Bruce held himself up, accepting everything Jason would throw at him, and held to his convictions even in the face of obloquy.

He deserved as much, he thought, for letting his son's killer walk away, everyday reminding Bruce of his failures. 

He thought, much to his chagrin, that letting Jason off was the least he could do for him. 

For now.

He still wished to make peace with him, so his son will come back home.


	12. resile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 12, 2020
> 
> resile
> 
> verb /rih-ZYLE/
> 
> : recoil, retract

Bruce was dumbfounded.

They were having dinner together-- all the boys and Cass and Alfred, minus Jason-- and an argument had broken out between Damian and Tim. Simple enough, given that it would be unusual if they hadn't. 

Which was probably why Bruce choked on his mashed potatoes when Damian had agreed and resiled from the banter, and went back to picking out the peppers from his pasta. 

He wipes at his mouth to shoot Tim a confused look, who only mirrored his face, and shrugged. The teen then went onto drown his mashed potatoes in gravy, while Dick, from where Bruce was sitting, looked like he was trying to keep himself from smiling too much, lest a knife would find itself flying towards the direction of Dick's face. Cass was enjoying her pasta, pushing her plate closer to Damian's, who had agreed to take his sister's mushrooms if she took his bell peppers. 

Her expression was a mystery, but a neutral smile played on her lips. 

Alfred was quiet, as usual, only chiding slightly at Cass and Damian, reminding them to eat their vegetables, even those they didn't like. 

Still, Bruce couldn't seem to understand how and  _ why  _ Damian of all people had backed down in his bickering with  _ Tim _ of all people.

He'll get to the bottom of this.

He wasn't called the  _ 'World's Greatest Detective'  _ for nothing.


	13. gustatory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 13, 2020
> 
> gustatory
> 
> adjective /GUSS-tuh-tor-ee/
> 
> : relating to or associated with eating or the sense of taste

Adding to the long list of days Bruce wished he could read minds, today had probably been the most off-kilter one so far. 

Though, this time, it's Cass and Damian pulling on each of his hands and leading him to cake shops and bakeries. Alfred could make any kind of pastry in the world, probably, if anyone had asked nicely, so visiting various shops in town. 

At the moment, he's standing in line to pay for five different slices of cake, while Cass and Damian went straight for a booth table with their drinks. Glancing over his shoulder, he can see their heads meeting together in the middle, like they were conspiring about taking over the world, or maybe just monopolizing Bruce's wallet at the moment. 

He'd just finished paying and accepted his receipt-- 

'Yes, it is I, Bruce Wayne. Thank you for adding the extra chocolate shavings, and yes, it's no problem paying for them. Yes, I am tipping you that much, I'm not joking. Thank you again for the- oh yes, more napkins and three forks, thanks. Thank you'-- 

So now that he's on his way to their table, he can hear rapid-fire hushed yelling coming from Damian, while Cass is just frowning, shaking her head no, whereas Damian will just shrug in reply. 

"If you're discussing this silly gustatory act, then just drop it. I know this is some sort of thing for my birthday next week, you don't have to sneak around, or make up ploys to figure out what I want to get for my present, okay?" 

The two spring apart, Damian flying out of his seat to sit in the booth across the table, clasping his hands together like a good boy. Cass sits up straight, smiling angelically, as if she had no part in this… whatever this was they were doing. 

"That is pre _ posterous,  _ Father. I am astonished that you would think I would sink so low as to scheme behind your back!" Damian looked as if he was genuinely upset, but Bruce can see sparks of mischief dance in his eyes. Cass only nods somberly as if she took no part in it. 

"Just stop okay? Tell your brothers to stop, too." Bruce sits down beside Damian, who only scoffs at the thought of being in any way related to his brothers. 

He distributes the cake slices, and takes the Castella for himself. He slides the black forest cake with extra chocolate shavings toward Cass, and the mango graham cheesecake toward Damian. 

Bruce never brings their ridiculous plans for his birthday for the rest of the day, but it's still on his mind until the next week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //I'll complete this one tomorrow


	14. cupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 14, 2020
> 
> cupid
> 
> noun / _KYOO-pid_ /
> 
> \- _not capitalized_ : a figure that represents Cupid as a naked usually winged boy often holding a bow and arrow

Bruce never liked this particular holiday. 

_ Especially  _ walking into the lobby of Wayne Enterprises that's decked in hearts, and glitters, and red and pink everywhere, Bruce's eyes were straining just keeping a straight look wherever he looked. 

Tim had insisted he wore a fun necktie to work; Jason and Dick had bought it for him last year, and it was Cupid, carousing where he was surrounded by barrels of wine, while a couple of cherubs were taking it up the arse, their wings covering anything unsavoury for the public eye. 

He's trying to cover the tie up with his coat, but it really wasn't helping, and Tim is clicking his tongue in distaste when Bruce walks into the office, insisting on fixing his tie for him. He pats it good-naturedly when he was done. 

It was then that Bruce took in what Tim had on:

"What the heck are you wearing?" 

Tim looks down his chest, frowning at Bruce like he was out of his mind. "A suit?" He asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow at him. "Hey, you swore!" He cheered, the confusion on his face has been washed away with mirth. 

Bruce only frowns, the creases on his forehead dig deeper. "I did not," he tried to reason, but he's already been caught red-handed, so Tim took it as an opportunity to pull his necktie out of Bruce's hands before tucking it into his coat. 

He stood there with a dumbfounded expression on his face for a good minute-- he knew because Tim had whistled low at the fact, and Bruce had been counting the seconds go by in his head, as he tried to formulate a rebuttal. 

But he never got to it, as Lucius had knocked on the door, popped his head in with a smile, a wave, and a  _ "the board members have all arrived, Mister Wayne. Time to go."  _

Before Bruce could even reply, Tim is already ushering him out the office with a good-natured pat on the back. 

His necktie was still just as distasteful as it was that morning, all throughout the day, so Bruce did all he could to not look at his son's… choice in clothing.

What he didn't know was that Tim took it as a personal win for himself, having Bruce at a loss for words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //IT'S BEEN 84 YEARS SINCE I UPDATED THIS OH GODD
> 
> I've fallen in probably one of my worst writing slumps, but I'm grateful I can still write and even post some days, so,,, we'll see if I can push out more of these! 
> 
> Thanks for staying, and for reading!! 💖


End file.
